


Impulse

by theothardus



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Adult Content, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Laundry, Married Sex, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theothardus/pseuds/theothardus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What goes on between Ed and Winry, both in their thirties, under the sheets; or, in this case, on top of the washing machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another smut. Enjoy.

**XXX**

As the years went by, their sex life never dulled. In fact, it only got better.

In their late teens and early twenties they had the energy of a typhoon, always up for the activity, always in the mood, and had tons of free time to do it; in their mid-twenties they were shameless; in their late twenties and early thirties, on the other hand, with the little time they had, it left them feeling much more… satisfied.

In other words, there were much more orgasms.

Winry was rattled, not having to move an inch. The washing machine that she was propped up on did all the work for her, with Edward’s strong hands doing the rest, of course, bouncing her up and down.

The noises she made…. Ah, he could have came right then and there.

Fortunately, the rough sounds of the washing machine prevented her moans from being heard by anyone outside of the laundry room—particularly the kids. Most of them were old enough to understand what those noises meant, and, hell, Edward seemed stuck on making the kids think that he and their mom did not get intimate like that, nor did sex even exist (currently, he was in denial that his eldest daughter was at the age of puberty). Winry knew better, but went along with making her husband believe that they hadn’t the slightest clue, deciding long ago to give them “the talk” single-handedly, if it came down to it.

Normally, they wouldn’t be so impulsive. The last time they had spontaneously yanked each other into the nearest spot to mess around was nearly a decade ago, when they were young and hormonal. Maybe Ed being gone on one of Mustang’s “errands” for months on end was their reason for such a stringent need for sex.

The next noise to squeeze out between her lips was that of a gasp and a squeal, her head hanging back, nude skin glistening in an erotic glow.

Ed shamelessly stared at her mounds, which had only gotten plumper throughout the years (especially in the aftermath of a few pregnancies), and he wasn’t complaining. They danced with her desperate shaking, light pink nipples trembling and begging to be bitten. He groaned as he leaned forward, latching his teeth onto her nipple. The man pulled and stretched on the sensitive skin.

She made that same sound, that sound between a gasp and a squeal, looking down at him with those big blue eyes that watered in overwhelming pleasure. He looked up at her through his eyelashes, swiping his tongue over the bite mark and using his lips as a suction cup to start sucking. His unoccupied hand rubbed the other nipple with the rough pad of his thumb. Despite such attention to her breasts, she noticed that his thrusts were slowing and frowned in disappointment. Nonetheless, the vibrations of the washing machine kept them moving, the cold surface buzzing beneath her rear-end.

His suction eased on her breasts, he grappled her hips with bruising strength, and he drove into her. The slapping skin that met grew louder than their colliding moans.

The washing machine went in rhythm with them, intensifying their nerves.

“ _Uhn!”_ Ed half-groaned, half-moaned, gawking down at the sight of his shaft pressing inside her. His dry lips tasted like sandpaper when his tongue swiped across them. Who would’ve thought that a thirty-two-year-old could have such vigor (in bed)? He may not be in his prime, but he was still a strong, healthy individual with muscled arms that throbbed with each thrust, abs tightening at the burn that built up in his stomach, sculpted legs straining against the material of the pants, belt, and jockeys that bunched up at his ankles.

His wife pleaded aloud, begging he go faster, harder. He cupped her face and pulled her close, bringing her into a deep reunion of the lips. Between kissing and thrusting, she could hardly focus on both, panting into his mouth when he hit her sweet spot.

By Truth, she was so beautiful. His spectacles twinkled in awe, moving in to nibble on her lower lip, pink and plush.

Now, they were slow. Fucking transitioned into making love—as it often did—their foreheads bumping against one another. His hands on her hips, her hands on his neck. The moans relaxed into raspy breaths. Winry’s lips tugged up in a smile, penetrating the shadow that the dim light cast over his eyes. He smiled back, teeth flickering through the shadowy blanket. She pressed her lips to his cheek, then to his jawline, then to his earlobe.

“ _Mmmn…_ love you...,” she whispered, face buried in the nape of his neck.

That sparked something deep inside of Ed. His smile faded, face hot, and he began to roughly thrust into her once again. Faster and faster he went, giving his wife the ride of her life.

She felt _spectacular_. Wet and, even after a five rounds of childbirth, tight. He heard stories, or nightmares at that, of women getting rather… loose and sloppy, both as a result of having even two children and getting older. Sure, she probably wasn’t as tight as she was at eighteen (not that he really remembered—he just assumed), but for a woman in her thirties she was holding up quite well.

Not that he based their relationship on sex, either. No, that wasn’t it. They fell for each other long before sexual attraction came into play. Once it came, however, the only thing between them was bashfulness.

Ed no longer had to pray that he outlast Winry. He already foresaw her driven to her end, eyes rolling to the back of her head, back arching, white, opaque fluid bubbling and flowing from the folds of her femininity. She called his name into the air, her insides constricting around him. He pushed into her a few more times before coming to his end.

Shapes and colors floated in his sight, mouth stretching involuntarily.

" _Uhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnggggggggg!_ " out came the low growl, along with her name, so sweetly.

He remembered their first time, when he was hair-triggered, and their second time, when he barely managed to last only a few seconds after Winry, although he still didn’t come out on top. Now he was a champ. She even tried to challenge him, but always lost if he decided to cheat by adding a dainty clit massage. That was when he was in the mood to play dirty.

Basking in their orgasm may have lasted a minute, maybe two. Once they recovered, Ed removed his softened member from her. He picked her up in his arms and lowered her feet to the ground so he could pull up his bottoms.

Winry spotted her undergarments and reached over to grab them. Suddenly, a light burning sensation spread over her rump. A loud  _CLAP_ pierced her eardrum.

Edward snickered like a child, rubbing the hand that had spanked her playfully. She looked over her shoulder with a giggle, pressing her palm against his chest and pushing him against the wall.  He only chuckled in response, and as she turned back around to try to gather her clothes, he snatched her wrist and pulled her to him, giving her a chaste kiss.

Breaking the kiss, her finger tapped the tip of his nose, sneering, “I miss you too, dummy.”

" _Mmph_." His calloused hands squeezed the cheeks of her ass. His mirthful grin crept down her collar, tickled her breasts, fingered her tummy, dipped into the creases on her hips, and lingered lower, moistening her beloved female organ.

Yeah, they were pretty satisfied, but they could always go for round two.

_**Fin** _


End file.
